


For Your Eyes Only

by Katy133



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Animorph Crowley (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Post-Armageddon, Sharing a Bed, set in present day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katy133/pseuds/Katy133
Summary: Crowley wakes up from a nightmare. He finds himself stuck halfway into his snake form. Aziraphale helps to calm him down.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 224





	For Your Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a post by lost-on-t-umblr about Crowley's "Animorph" form. [You can read the post here.](https://katy-133.tumblr.com/post/188799255253)

Crowley saw the bookshop in flames. He saw Aziraphale disappear into ash, and he saw Hastur and Ligur laughing.

_No..._

Crowley woke up with a flinch. His heart was pounding.

He stayed still for a few moments and waited for his heartbeat to slow down. _It was just a nightmare._ Aziraphale was fine. The bookshop was fine. And Ligur was out of the picture.

Crowley was in his flat, in the four poster king sized bed. He slept on the left side of the bed, with his right side resting in the mattress.

So that every morning, he could wake up to seeing Aziraphale lying next to him.

It wasn't morning, judging by the darkness. He turned to look at the clock behind him. _2:07_.

He didn't feel at all well, so he slowly got out of bed, taking care not to wake the angel who was still sleeping.

Crowley walked down the hallway, past the wrestling statue, to the bathroom.

* * *

He looked in the mirror. In front of him was something _dreadful_.

He was covered in black scales. His face, his hands, his feet.

The front of his neck had red scales, like the underside of his serpent form. The scales disappeared into his dark pyjamas.

Gripping the edge of the sink and leaning forward, he took a closer look at his face.

The scales around his too-wide mouth appeared lighter, giving the unnerving illusion that he had long, massive teeth.

His eyes were completely yellow, which was a tell-tale sign that he was stressed.

He still had his red hair, kept in his new haircut.

Crowley leaned back. He still had legs though. _You have to try and find the bright side of things,_ thought Crowley.

He ran a hand over his face. The scales were hard, but also malleable. Like running your hand down snakeskin gloves.

Crowley concentrated on going back into his favourite shape, but found that he couldn't.

His heart started to thump with panic. He was _stuck_. This wasn't the first time this had ever happened, but the thought, _What if I can never change back?_ suddenly entered his mind.

Crowley left the bathroom to get something to calm himself down.

* * *

Crowley's kitchen was past the living room and to the right of the eagle statue. It included a well-stocked mini bar, as well as a table and chairs for when you wanted to drown your sorrows.

He didn't feel like drinking, so he poured a glass of water.

He left the light off. Demons could see in the dark.

He pulled up a chair and sat at the table.

Crowley took a sip. It was a challenge to purse his mouth without lips, so he stuck out his forked tongue to collect the water. He got the hang of it after a moment.

He set the half-empty glass down, and stood very still, staring at it. His hands on top of each other like a caught schoolboy who was considering what he'd done.

Crowley started having thoughts about what would happen if he could never change back into his human body. _I wouldn't be able to go out,_ he thought. _No more driving. No more going to concerts. No more restaurants..._

He couldn't set a foot outside his flat looking like _this_. He'd be noticed. He'd be living proof of the supernatural.

He knew he should stop this line of thought, but he continued. _No more lunch dates with Aziraphale..._

"Crowley?" said a voice in the darkness.

Crowley twitched. "Don't turn the--!"

Aziraphale turned the kitchen light on. Crowley felt like a spotlight had been shone on himself.

"Oh," said Aziraphale simply. There was no fear in his voice.

There was a silence between them for a moment.

"I didn't hear you get up," said Crowley.

"I woke up and you... weren't there."

"Yeah... I'm... stuck..."

Understanding, Aziraphale glanced at the glass of water. "I'll get you something hot to drink," said the angel.

* * *

Aziraphale set the two mugs down on the kitchen counter. A hot milk and honey for Crowley, and a hot cocoa for Aziraphale. He used his favourite white mug and Crowley's favourite black one.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale sat down in the opposite chair.

"You really don't have to," said the demon. "Go back to bed."

He didn't want Aziraphale to see him like this. But it was too late now.

Aziraphale looked upset. Was he uncomfortable with how Crowley looked?

As if to refute Cowley's thoughts, Aziraphale said, "Does it hurt?" _Oh. He's concerned._

"Nah," Crowley said honestly, "it just feels... odd."

He shrugged as he said it, and he imagined he must have looked odd. A half-formed, demonic creature shrugging next to a mug of hot milk.

"How's the milk?" ask Aziraphale. "I made sure it wasn't too hot."

Realising he hadn't started on it, Crowley began to drink. After a few gulps, he downed the entire mug and set it back on the table. He felt a little better.

"Thanksss."

Another stretch of silence.

Aziraphale sipped his cocoa. "We ought to go back to bed."

"I don't want to go back to sleep..." said Crowley, looking down at the empty mug. He noticed that his hands were still scaly.

"But it's two o'clock."

"I... had a bad dream. A nightmare." Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale. The angel said nothing, but gave an accepting look, so he continued. "I dreamt Hastur and Ligur burnt down your bookshop with hellfire. With you in it."

"Oh. My dear..."

"I _know_... It's just... I want to change back before I go back to bed."

Aziraphale nodded. "You'll be tickety-boo in no time. What if we watch a film together? I'll let you pick which one."

Crowley smiled with a mouth that was too wide. "I'd like that."

* * *

They sat together on Crowley's white sofa as 1981's _For Your Eyes Only_ began to play.

Roger Moore's James Bond was being chased by some goons. The villains were driving two black cars, while Bond and a woman he'd met were in a small, lemon-coloured car.

Crowley and Aziraphale's legs were tangled up together beneath the tartan blanket. Crowley rested in Aziraphale's arms, his head in the dip of the angel's shoulder, looking up at the television screen, his scales illuminated by the soft glow of the film.

Aziraphale felt warmth in his chest. He was glad he could comfort Crowley like this. _I love you._ He wanted to be able to protect Crowley from any harm.

Crowley turned and caught Aziraphale staring at him. The angel blushed.

"You're _looking_ ," said Crowley. And the angel knew that tone of voice.

"I'm not afraid of you, you silly serpent."

"Admit it," said Crowley, "If I got stuck like this, you wouldn't like it."

"I don't mind at all." Then he added, "It reminds me of when we first met."

"Ngk? Huh?"

"When I was standing on the wall. I turned and saw you transform from a snake."

"Oh, yes. I remember."

"And I think..." Aziraphale found it difficult to lay out his heart like this. But this was _Crowley_. "I've always, deep down... Liked you. Since I first saw you."

Crowley made a noise and Aziraphale knew he was touched by the confession. He gave the demon a squeeze.

Aziraphale began running his fingers through Crowley's hair. He liked doing that whenever they cuddled.

"Your hair is so soft," said the angel. "Like feathers."

Crowley leaned his head on Aziraphale's chest. The angel kept his free arm wrapped around the demon.

"I still wish I could change back..."

"You just need some more time to calm down," said Aziraphale, smoothing his hand down the serpent's side. "The feeling will pass."

They watched the film in silence. A Bond villain was smiling from his yacht.

"I love you, no matter what your form," said Aziraphale, pressing his arms around the demon protectively.

Crowley yawned. "Angel..."

As one of the villains finished tying Bond up with his love interest, Melina, Crowley's breathing changed to a different pace. That was when Aziraphale knew he had fallen asleep.

The film on the television screen continued playing.

 _"I didn't think it would end like this,"_ said Melina, played by Carole Bouquet. She was tied up with Bond, their bodies together in an unintentional embrace, standing at the edge of unfriendly waters.

 _"We're not dead yet,"_ reassured Roger Moore's James Bond. _"Hold tight."_

 _I didn't think it would end like this either,_ thought Aziraphale. _But I'm ever so glad it did._ After six thousand years, they could finally be truly together.

Aziraphale pressed a light kiss on Crowley's temple. The scales were slowly disappearing.

End.


End file.
